Sports fan. Connoisseur of good music (especially on vinyl). Consumer of the finest craft beers. Environmental activist. History geek. Dudeist Priest. Hunter S. Thompson junkie. And I write a little. Mostly though, I’m a dad. But I am unlike my dad. I am still the breadwinner, but laundry, cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, hugging, crying, disciplining and nurturing are also part of my routine. I am a domestic machine…I am, like many dads of my generation, The Domestic Warrior.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Fashion Faux Pas

As published in The County Times (http://countytimes.somd.com) in August 2014

In February, the Baltimore Ravens running back assaulted his
wife in an Atlantic City casino’s elevator.
The specific details are unknown, but the disturbing, viral video, one
that depicted Rice dragging an unconscious woman from said elevator like a sack
of dirty laundry, told the terrible story.
Rice, the tough, manly and now cowardly football player, raised his fist
or elbow or knee or whatever and beat his wife so violently that she lost
consciousness for a protracted period of time.
Rice’s act was disgusting and built a powder keg of raw public emotion;
the NFL’s handling of it set the emotional bonfire ablaze.

Since taking over as NFL Commissioner, Roger Goodell has
issued heavy-handed justice for player misconduct. He’s been as strict as the nuns that taught me in grade school
and his punishments have reminded me of dad’s when I couldn’t plead my case to
mom first. As the NFL investigation
progressed, the world watched and waited for Judge Goodell’s decision. His verdict wouldn’t just be about Ray Rice,
it would provide hard evidence on the NFL’s position on domestic violence, particularly
as compared to other player “crimes”, such as positive tests for banned
substances (situations that routinely result in four game suspensions or more).

So this was a big deal – among Goodell’s most important
decisions. His verdict was delivered
with a foam gavel: Rice would be suspended for two games. The outcry was swift, loud and has been
rightfully persistent. It feels
inconsistent with Goodell’s commitment to protecting “the shield” (the NFL’s
iconic logo) and, more troubling, dismissive of violence against women.

I’m not presenting anything here you likely didn’t already
know. You are probably equally
disappointed in the NFL; you may even share my outrage. But the league has spoken. Rice, the same guy that knocked out his
wife, will represent the NFL and the Ravens starting in week three of the 2014
season. Nothing is going to change
that. What remains in question and
beyond the bounds of the NFL’s substantial influence is our – the general population’s
– processing of Rice’s penalty and eventually on-field presence. Thus far, the returns have been
disappointing - at least locally.

At a practice held on July 28 at M&T Bank Stadium in
Baltimore, Rice was cheered like a prodigal son returning from an unjust
detainment. That bothered me,
initially, but I’ve grown to accept this quick, within-the-family indication of
support. If Rice is to pay his penance
and restore his character (this was his first blemish), and if some good is to
come of this terrible mess, he will need the city behind him.

Here’s what I can’t accept: wearing his jersey.

While dinning recently, Rice re-entered my thoughts when a
young man clad in a Rice jersey-shirt settled in at an adjacent table. My curiosity raced. What compelled this guy to commit such an
obvious fashion faux pas? Does he have
a wife or a girlfriend? A sister? He at least has a mother. I have all of those (just a wife, no
girlfriend…for the record) and when I critique Rice, I think of them. Did he consider his jersey’s message or was
he just concerned with beating the Pittsburgh Steelers this fall?

I suppose the fan’s tendency is to segregate sports
from the real world and broader causes.
The problem for that unsuspecting Rice fan is that I’ve made a column
out of highlighting the undeniable link between the two. Rice isn’t just a football player: he’s a
symbol for a team, a city, the NFL and…society. And right now that symbol says that domestic violence isn’t such
a big deal. Well, it is and offenders
deserve more than a two-game suspension.
No one - not athletes, not politicians, not executives, not clergy –
should have their greatness cheered and their transgressions ignored. Ray Rice is a great football player with a
fresh scar on his character. Wearing
his jersey now, after little more than an obligatory apology, feels like
misplaced blind faith in an athlete with amends to make as a man.